CARS CRASHING IN SLOW MOTION: A Review of Standup Night at The B.O.B
Last night, I went to give moral support to my dear friend Megan Gedris during her first ever standup comedy gig. I didn’t have any expectations for all the other performers, so the bar wasn’t particularly high for them. Unfortunately, the bar apparently needed to be subterranean.
Let me get one thing clear, right off the bat. I am by no means a professional comic. I’m not even an amateur comic. I just love comedy. I’m a humorous individual, and the only joke that offends me is an unfunny one. If comedy is my soul, this show was like watching myself die. To say that Megan performed well compared to everyone else would be like saying that Superman won a triathlon against a bunch of thalidomide babies.
Lesson one to all comics in the making: don’t suddenly decide to throw out your planned routine two minutes before you go onstage, with no other material to back you up. No one wants to watch you go onstage and stammer for a while before requesting that the sound man put on your “theme song” for you to dance to AFTER YOUR TIME HAS RUN OUT.
Oh, and on that note, if you’re floundering terribly for five straight minutes and then the bell sounds to get offstage, don’t try and save yourself with a lengthy setup for a joke with no punchline while the host stands offstage, slowly inching closer in order to herd you back into the audience. It’s the standup equivalent to kneeling over a dead man, pounding your fists on his ribcage and screaming to God until your friends drag your sobbing, quivering frame away from the scene of the crime.
There were at least three acts that brought props onstage, and two of them forgot to use them. Please, for the love of all that is funny, don’t drag a bunch of shit up there, forget all your material, and throw your sense to the wayside like a discarded plastic cup on the freeway. If your appearance makes your audience ask themselves why George Lucas is onstage holding a banjo and stumbling through a painfully awkward story about his girlfriend’s colonoscopy, you are doing something wrong.
I suppose there isn’t much to be expected for an amateur comedy show. Everyone’s a beginner, just starting out. However, there’s a huge difference between “aspiring comedian” and “drunken trainwreck”. If you can’t figure out which category you fit in, please, I beg of you…wait, no. That’s not enough drastic hyperbole. Rather, I plead mercy. Spare us. Spare us all.